Draco Malfoy and the Boy Who Lived
by hogwartslibrarian
Summary: What if Draco Malfoy wasn't bad, what if Draco Malfoy was just lonely, sad, neglected, and possibly abused boy who just wanted to read, have some friends, and explore the history of Hogwarts? What if Draco Malfoy was anything but a Malfoy?


A/N: This is my first fanfiction that I've posted in a loooooong time, and I feel like a lot has changed on this website since I was last writing (ten years ago!). Fanfictionin general has become something completely different... I don't know where I'm going with this. But please, read, enjoy, and review, if you want. Thanks y'all!

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Draco Malfoy grew up thinking certain things in his life were fairly normal in all children's lives. He thought that parents only had one, maybe two children, unless you were a Weasley, he thought that parents weren't very cuddley or didn't say "I love you". Draco Malfoy thought that everyone lived in large, empty homes, except for the Weasley's, most of which he wasn't allowed to go into. He thought everyone owned several businesses, using sneaky business tactics that weren't legal. And Draco Malfoy thought that everyone served the Dark Lord, even when he was "dead", except for those disgusting Weasley's.

But Draco Malfoy also envied those disgusting Weasley's. Though they were poor and dirty, the few times he had actually seen them in person, they looked happy.

Draco Malfoy would never let anyone know how much he envied the Weasley's, but it's true, he did.

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"Draco, come here son." Draco looked up, startled, from his end of the banquet table, far away from either of his parents, because, after all, out of sight, out of mind. Lucius motioned Draco over to him, so he diligently stood and walked closer to his father and mother. Both were tall and rather thin, with aristocratic features, namely their pointed noses and long white hair. Draco touched his own rather white hair, before his mother slapped his hand away and smoothed it out.

"Draco, you start Hogwarts tomorrow morning. There are a few very important things I need you to remember. You must become close to Crabbe and Goyle. I know, they are rather useless, but we need to keep in their father's circles. Remember that you are to marry Pansy Parkinson, so you must stay in her good graces as well. Most importantly, don't allow anyone to spit on our name, to say we are nothing less but the perfect family. Do you understand?" Draco nodded. Lucius gave him a stern, pointed stare, and then motioned to the staircase.

"You may retire to your quarters." Draco nodded again and left the room. He doubted that either of his parents even knew what his voice sounded like. It was all nods, and perhaps a 'yes sir' or 'no ma'am' every so often. He didn't mind though. It gave his parents less opportunity to take their anger and frustrations out on him. He shuddered as he thought about their dungeon, and his week long stay that happened when he once told her father no.

Draco's bedroom was his haven. His parents never bothered to come in, and so he could decorate however he wanted. There were Chudley Cannon posters up, as well as a whole wall of books. With no siblings, Draco had become enamoured with books, with stories from made up lands and happy people. He often conscripted his house elf, Dobby, to visit the closest Muggle town and buy up their stories. Another thing Draco would never admit. His four poster bed had long dark blue curtains, and he had painted stars from an astronomy on the inside top, ones that glowed in the dark, so at night he could study the constellations without ever leaving his bed.

Draco Malfoy grew up thinking for himself and not telling anyone what those thoughts were. Draco Malfoy grew up thinking that Muggles couldn't be so terrible if they could write such fantastic stories. He grew up thinking that his parents couldn't possibly be his real ones, and that shouldn't parents be nicer? Draco Malfoy grew up thinking Quidditch was the most incredible thing on the planet, and that he was going to play for the Chudley Cannons one day.

Draco Malfoy grew up thinking that maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts could be his home, that perhaps life outside of Draco Manor could be better than the life within.

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The Hogwarts Express was bustling with movement, children chattering and squealing, all while Draco heaved his trunk along. He passed the compartment with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, along with a couple other Pureblood first years. He turned his head to the side, and walked faster past them. Somehow, Draco found an empty compartment at the back of the train. He sighed as he stuffed his trunk on the top, pulling out a book, and sat down next to the window. He didn't immediately start reading, instead he enjoyed all of the green flashing by. Eventually, he opened his book, The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe, intrigued by the wardrobe that could transport four lonely children to a new world.

Just a few minutes after opening his book, the doors to his compartment clattered open to reveal a boy with bright red hair and one with straggly brown hair. They were chatting quietly and it took them a moment to realize that someone else was in the compartment.

"Oh, sorry, could we sit here please?" The brown haired boy asked. Draco simply nodded and turned back to his book, ignoring the two boys as much as he could.

"Quidditch is the greatest sport on the planet!" The red haired boy (presumably a Weasley) said loudly. The other boy shrugged and smiled.

"I've never heard of it," he replied. Weasley scoffed and went on to explain the game. Draco heard the occasional team name being dropped, until Weasley stated firmly that the Chudley Cannons were, by far, the best team. Draco looked up.

"They haven't won a game in awhile," Draco said, putting a bookmark in and looking up at the boys. Weasley rolled his eyes.

"That doesn't mean they aren't the best! Have you been to a Chudley Cannon's game? They're the best!"

Draco smiled sadly. "No, I wish. My parents wouldn't take me. They don't think Quidditch is a respectable sport." Weasley looked down for a moment before looking back up at Draco.

"What's your name?"

"I'm-" Draco got cut off by a bushy haired girl pulling their doors open.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his." The girl walked into the compartment and began looking under the seats without so much as an 'excuse me'. She looked up at the dark haired boy from the floor, her eyes widening.

"Holy crickets! You're Harry Potter!" I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" She turned to the Weasley.

"Ron. Ron Weasley." He said proudly.

Draco was staring at Harry Potter. He couldn't believe it. Draco honestly thought that The Harry Potter was just a myth. The three continued to talk for a moment, no one bothering to look or acknowledge Draco. That was fine with him. He pulled out his book and continued reading, all the while keeping a part of his brain focused on Harry Potter.

Draco eventually got sucked back into the conversation with Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and now Hermione Granger, and soon enough they were getting their robes on and collecting their things. Draco liked the Hermione Granger girl, although he didn't know of any prominent Granger's. Maybe she was a half-blood. Either way, she was smart and quick, and had read the same C.S. Lewis books that Draco was currently reading.

The four got off the train together, walking over to a half giant named Hagrid, who looked both menacing and dark. Harry Potter walked right up and said hello, and began talking as if the two were old buddies.

They took the boats over and soon found themselves waiting in the front hall. Draco knew what was coming, and was nervous. He didn't want to be in Slytherin, but knew that his father would be disappointed if he wasn't. Draco grew quieter, and quieter, not wanted to chat with the three he had met on the train. The other three had figured out Draco's first name, but none knew he was a Malfoy. What would happen once they found out? He liked the three a lot, and didn't want them to dislike him because of a name.

McGonagall came out and began to talk. Draco wasn't listening, and just shuffled forward when everyone else did.

The Sorting Hat sat on the stool, while everyone around the first years, sitting at their house tables, watched them. Some smiled at siblings or friends, others glared or narrowed their eyes at enemies or 'death eaters'. Draco couldn't believe that children, first years, were being judged based off of their parents. He kept his head down, hoped that no one noticed him, and wished that he had dyed his hair, so as to not be tied to the Malfoy family so easily.

The Sorting Hat got to Hermione Granger rather quickly, and she was sorted into Gryffindor almost immediately. Draco would be sorted before Harry and Ron, and he was growing more and more nervous. When the sorting hat finally shouted his name, Draco thought he would throw up. As he sat on the stool, he saw Ron Weasley's angry face, and Harry's small smile and a thumb's up. The Sorting Hat was put on his head, and Draco heard a voice.

" _Malfoy, eh?_ _It's been awhile since I've had the pleasure of meeting a Malfoy. Let's see. You're smart, very smart. You would do well in Ravenclaw, but you're also cunning. You would have to be cunning to be a Malfoy. Slytherin is the obvious choice, of course."_

Draco closed his eyes, thoughts flitting through his head.

" _You don't want Slytherin? Interesting. Perhaps we will stick with Ravenclaw."_ Draco's heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

" _Better be_ -" The Sorting Hat began in Draco's head, finishing loudly so that all the students could hear.


End file.
